


Pretend

by padsandmoons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Heavy Angst, bad werewolf transformation, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padsandmoons/pseuds/padsandmoons
Summary: Remus deals with a bad transformation after the events on Halloween 1981.





	Pretend

Fuck, was Remus’s first thought as he cracked his eyes open. He immediately closed them again, the pain in his wrist too much to handle. He had yet to figure out where he was, the wolf had been exploring more and more new places since he no longer used the shrieking shack.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” he distantly heard a voice he didn’t recognise ask.

He opened his eyes again, this time fighting to keep them open, and squinted at the owner of the voice. A muggle girl. She looked hesitant to approach him, but he apparently looked pathetic enough that she deemed him unable to hurt her in his current state, whatever that was. He imagined it was bad, he could feel dried blood on his face and in his hair, and bruises on his thighs.

“I’ve called the ambulance okay, they should be here any second,” she said. “Can you remember your name?”

“Re-“ he managed to choke out before his words turned into coughs, blood dripping out of his mouth.

“Shit okay, the paramedics will be here soon I promise.”

She seemed to have gotten over her fear of him as she was now helping him to sit up so he didn’t choke on the blood he had just coughed up.

He passed out again, allowing the darkness to make him numb to the pain again.

When he woke up, it was dark. He was in a bed with scratchy sheets and his body felt tight. Hospital, he thought grimly, and then began thinking about how he was supposed to explain his current state to the muggles.

“Oh, I’m a werewolf and all of my friends who can turn into animals to help me on the full moon are dead or in prison. It seems my transformation was pretty rough this time,” probably wouldn’t go down well. After his injuries had healed he would probably end up in the mental ward of the hospital.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He didn’t even know where he was, and he didn’t have his wand or any money on him. At least the pain in his wrist was subdued, which he assumed was to do with the medication that was currently pumping through him in an IV.

Not at all caring about what trouble it would cause the hospital, he tore out the IV and tried to open the window to leave. It was locked, so he gathered up all of his strength and did a wandless alohomora, thinking a word of thanks to the first god he thought of that he was on the first floor.

Eventually, he made his way home, performed the most basic healing spells he knew and had a shower. He decided to leave the more severe injuries until the following day, deciding a simple dressing would do in the meantime. He really really needed a bloody drink, he thought, not bothering with a glass and grabbing the bottle of gin from the top shelf in the kitchen. He had become more removed from the wizarding world since Halloween. He did not want to think about it but there were times his mind would not think about anything else. It had taken almost three months before his mind would think about Sirius though. He still couldn’t quite comprehend it. There wasn’t a chance in the world that Sirius would do that to James and Lily, but the evidence was overwhelming.

Remus still refused to think about him and Sirius. He had moved out of their flat as soon as he possibly could, leaving all of Sirius’s things for Dumbledore to sort out. He just haphazardly packed a bag of a few of his own clothes and went straight to Mary’s house until he found a new flat.

Remus finished his drink and shook his head as if to shake the thoughts away. He got ready for bed as he did everyday, feeling as though he was not even real anymore and was continuing his life on autopilot. The constant numbness had not eased, but he knew it was better than everything he was feeling when things were still fresh. He could at least pretend there was a sense of normalcy now. He could pretend.


End file.
